Эпизоды
-
san niang
translated by PLS
during ten years of offering, she was as devoted as a barrel of chopsticks
dexterous, and endurable. burning silence from above and under the field
on her shoulders, fast paced like an opinion-less goose
occasionally, trash songs popping out of the dumb phone
“let tears turn into a rain of love”. her feet taps along
imagine an empty square, the city fighting against winter
in silent recital. people with habitual clamour and temperature
her cells are a cabin of sweetness
self-serving and self-satisfying.
outstandingly. those containers following closely
sticky for half a life, peacefully resonating in dancing
dust is boiling. huddled fluffy light, hurling warm-coloured clews
at her, like the maze of life Sakyamuni hurled at her
years ago, skilled Cumulonimbus, she’s unravelling,
from one step to ten thousand, circling repetitively.
she has her own think tank as well. benevolent and intelligent sisters,
they are like tour guides or early birds, driving new waves of life
mostly talks and religion, she listens with her head tilted
lots of emotional faces, like crying but also smiling
sometimes she even feels as if they are buddhas.
these shower heads cladded in fancy outfits,
are all dropping pilgrims’ food crumbs along the way, generous and clamours
-
三娘
作者：吕周杭
供佛的十年，她虔诚地像一筒筷子
麻利，受用。扛着地上与地下
焦灼的沉默，快走成亦步亦趋的家鹅
偶尔，迟钝的老年机吐出流水歌
“让泪化作相思雨”。她用脚打着拍子
想象空旷的广场，城市在默诵中
抵御寒冬。人群持有古早的吵闹和温度
她的细胞是一座甜蜜的小屋
自给且自我满足。
出奇的。那些紧随的，粘稠了半生的
瓶瓶罐罐，在舞蹈里和平地共振
尘粒在沸腾。簇紧绒绒的光，向她抛
暖色的线团，像佛祖多年前抛出她或抛给她
这生活的迷宫，娴熟的积雨云，她在解，
从一步到一万步，反复画圆。
她也有她的智囊团。仁慈且多智的小姐妹，
她们像导游或早起的鸟，推动生活的新浪潮
大多是讲座与宗教，她仰着脸听
很多张眉飞色舞的脸，像哭也像笑
有时她甚至觉得他们像佛。
这些西装革履的瘦高花洒，
正沿途纷纷洒下求道者的食渣，慷慨且热闹
-
Пропущенные эпизоды?
-
爱上和平莲
翻译：诗验室
我最近在尝试爱上一株和平莲。是在我祖母长眠后没多久。可我的努力却止步于花艺店……花店、苗圃，那个你可以购买表达痛苦或者祝福之礼的地方。我在过道上翻找，被情绪和甜美的味道弄得不知所措。在商店的一角，我看到装有像天使一样的和平莲的陶瓷花瓶。水滴顺着叶子落下，像泪。我无法让自己再靠近一步；我究竟是在庆祝一个灿烂且长寿的人生，还是在叹息一个过早结束的生命？
我曾经在乎过一支和平莲。是在我祖母长眠以前。它让我祖母开心 — 看着她最爱的孙女捧着她最爱的花朵。我将那支莲种在一只带图案的盆里，这个盆后来就一直待在厨房的柜台上。她每次经过那朵花时都会显得很满足，算是提醒自己因为抛掉在越南的生活，如今才能够帮助照看年幼的孙女。
我曾经不喜欢和平莲。是在我祖母长眠前很久。我觉得她们有点过于单调和怪异，与我未来的生活截然相反。我凭什么要喜欢一种代表用人生最后的时光与心爱的人哀悼短暂的脆弱转瞬即逝的光阴的花，或者象征一种作为少女的我无法真正体会的内心平和的花？
我原以为他们可以给和平莲更多的关怀。是在我祖母长眠的时候。此时的我却身处世界的另一个角落，通过视频对话目睹家人安葬她，眼里噙满泪水一片模糊昏暗不堪忍受和拒绝看着这位不等我回来亲自迎接我的人。我只是盯着屏幕一角一支看起来有点蔫了的百合。我又怎么会知道。
距祖母长眠已经有好几个月了。我觉得我会再次尝试爱上一支和平莲。
-
CARING FOR PEACE LILIES
by Joleen Ancheta
i recently tried to care for a peace lily. this was shortly after my grandmother took her final rest. i got as far as the florist...flower shop, plant nursery, this place where you purchase an expression of grief or a gift to celebrate. i scoured the aisles, overwhelmed by emotion and sweet scents. in the corner of the store, i spotted ceramic vases with peace lilies that looked like seraphim. water drops fell from the petals like tears. i couldn’t bring myself to go near; was i celebrating a long-lived life or grieving one cut too short?
i once cared for a peace lily. this was a time before my grandmother took her final rest. it made my grandmother grin—seeing her favorite granddaughter raise her favorite flower. i planted the lily in a painted pot, and the potted plant remained on the kitchen counter. she’d count her blessings each time she passed by the flower, as a reminder that the life she left behind in Vietnam led her to the teenage girl she could now help raise.
i once didn’t care for peace lilies. this was long before my grandmother took her final rest. i thought them too plain and eerie, the antithesis to the life that lay ahead of me. why would i favor a flower that represented the last moments of life on earth grieving ephemeral fragility fleeting moments with loved ones or symbolized an inner peace that a young soul like mine did not have the ability to truly comprehend?
i thought that they could’ve given more care to the peace lilies. this was when my grandmother took her final rest. here i am on the other side of the world, watching my family lay her to rest through facetime, eyes filled with water blurry murky straining refusing to focus on the person that wouldn’t be there when i finally got to go back home. i was focused on one of the lilies in the corner of the screen that might’ve looked slightly wilted. i wouldn’t really know.
it’s been several months since my grandmother took her final rest. i think i’ll try to care for a peace lily again.
-
fiesta
translated by PLS
as consciousness of winter starts to shroud
night deprives me of sleep
forcing me to listen to some
speechless howls
give it back to me, says the sound
give it back to me, echoes revolving and layering
in the mirror, in the moonlight
the me doesn’t belong to me, gazing
across the common soil
grows a type of virtual yet real flower
which is both you and me, keeping secret
day after day, bearing the silence
those lost are lost forever
trees are rooted connected under the ground
withered leaves and birds gather in the sky
water scurrying on the riverbed, shining
-
祝祭
作者：肖禾子
当冬天的意识开始遮蔽
夜晚夺走了我的睡眠
迫使我倾听一些
无言的呐喊
还给我 那声音说
还给我 往来高低错落
在镜子里 在月光里
那个不属于我的我凝视着
普遍的土壤上生长出
一种虚拟而真实的花
那是你也是我秘而不宣
一日复一日承担着沉默
失去的已经永远失去
树木扎根在地下通达
枯叶和飞鸟聚集在天上
水疾走在一面河床闪着光
-
Shanghai
translated by PLS
too afraid to face, the
dragon tattoo on your back
fire quenching bronze eyes, twitching tail
the groan is you
greeting morning mist
les revenants is you
sailing boat in the east wind
the blessing is you
glimmering resolute kiss
look,
that’s not rain
dazzling tears
soil pining for light receiving light
behind blind eyes
streams of golden blood
breathing the dream of four seasons
vocabularies yet to be formed
dancing on rattans
knots between bones
piercing through one after another
giant’s heart
no eternity of revelry
only this moment of tranquility
until, until I am fully awake
shall I remember you in precision
-
上海
作者：万思君
不敢直视，你
脊背经纬纵横的龙图
淬火的铜目 腾跃的尾
咆哮是你
问候晨雾
魂归故里是你
东风下的航船
祝福是你
闪烁 清晰的吻
看哪，
那不是雨
眩惑的眼泪
祈祷光的土透进光
失明的眼睛背后
川流金色的血
呼吸着四季之梦
还未构成的词语
在藤条上跳舞
骨与骨的连结
钻过一个又一个
巨擘的心脏
没有狂欢的永恒
只有寂静的此时
直到，直到我完全醒来
才会将你如数记起
-
INSE
— 嫂子inso与三姐sanse的组合
翻译：诗验室
他们不是把她描绘成一个巫婆、永不翻身的巫婆吗？许久以前在老家一个派对担任厨师的她，你外祖母Jaine来自乡下的妹妹，她需要养活好几口人，大家都说她施了个节食的魔咒，让自己不想吃烤猪腩和炒面。这让以慷慨著称的守护神文森特·费雷尔感到不快。就像劳拉·埃斯基韦尔《巧克力情人》书中提到的一个场景，除去集体呕吐的部分。你不是觉得成年人 — 那些有学问、甚至在科学领域工作的人 — 合谋不邀请她参加下一个家庭聚会，确信魔咒与照在光秃秃的大地上的午后阳光一样真实吗？派对的剩菜几乎没人碰，你的阿姨、Inse的侄女，被沉闷的气息打趣与纠缠着。一位大叔摇摇头，另一位则点燃一根香叶卷成的烟。魔咒，你将它与Inse挂钩的一嘴象声词。每次提及她的名字时餐桌旁都有人在胸前划十字。多年以来，她背负着那些“未公开的罪名” — 她丈夫沉迷麻将的传闻，未成年女儿的堕胎绯闻 — 如果确有此事的话，她肯定都知道。我们不能跟Inse说！她是家族的一员，这位阿姨毒舌后会在胸前划十字并抬头仰望苍天。因为这才是真正的家族传统：不跟当事人讲话，而是背着那个人说话。那些沉默的日子过去了，在家庭聚会上没人提及或是见过她。但是饭前饭后大家都还是会在胸前划十字。传言依旧不断 — 巫婆、赌鬼、妓女 — 只是换了张脸。你会好奇 Inse 是否已经从阴影中走出。好奇她是否已经学会接受别人强加于她的那些阴魂不散的名字。
-
INSE
— combination of inso, elder brother’s wife, and sanse, third elder sister
by Alton Melvar M Dapanas
Didn’t they cast her as some witch and always be? As cucinera of one of the hometown fiestas from many years back, she, your Lola Jaine’s younger sister from the suburb, she with many mouths to feed, was said to have put hurimhurim, a spell on losing appetite, on the humba and pancit. A displease to the patron saint, Vicente Ferrer, known for his generosity. Like a scene picked from Laura Esquivel’sComo agua para chocolate, sans the collective vomiting. And didn’t you believe the adults—the learned ones, even those who work in the sciences—who conspired on not inviting her in the next family occasions, convinced that the spell was as real as afternoon sunlight against bare earth?The bringhouse was barely even touched, your aunt, Inse’s niece, quipped followed by a chorus of muffled gasps. An uncle shook his head, another lit a tobacco straight from the folded leaf. Hurimhurim, a mouthful onomatopoeia you’d learn to attach to Inse. A sign of the cross at the lunch table every time her name is mentioned. For years, she lived with the unsaid accusations—hearsays of her husband’s addiction to mah-jongg, a teenage daughter’s rumored abortion—if at all, she knew about them.We can’t say that to Inse! She is family,the same aunt adds of the person she just said ill of and then makes another sign of the cross, looks up to heaven. Because such is the familial tradition: to not talk with the person, and instead, talk behind the person’s back. The silent years went by, neither a mention nor sight of her in gatherings. But the sign of the cross is still done before and after lunch. The gossips are still the same—witch, addict, whore—only the faces have changed. You wonder if Inse’s healed. You wonder if she’s learned to live with the ghosts of names given to her.
-
gold
translated by PLS
magnolia. there are magnolias made of gold too
before conjunctivitis crept in
she left the windows open
the fish bride was lying on the floor for you
the younger sister bought a golden buddha
she’s neither genuine nor kindhearted
tears are beautiful
resuscitating everyday in earnest
hands under the skirt
national flag above the head, choker
wait till it finishes ascending we
are shining like gold every afternoon
with which we cast hands
so easy to break
-
金子
作者：李曼旎
白玉兰。也有金子做的白玉兰
红眼病伸进来的时候
她没有关窗
鱼的新娘替你躺在地上
妹妹买到一尊金菩萨
她不真也不善良
眼泪很美
每天勤勤恳恳地复活
手在裙底
国旗在头顶上，项圈
等它升完我们
每一个下午都金光灿烂
我们用它铸成的手
很容易断
-
关于什么
翻译：诗验室
那是第一个天高气清的夜晚，有人点了一把篝火。
木头烧焦的味道让我浮想联翩。
尽管你已经离开有一阵子了，
我却觉得恍如昨日。
贴在我脸上的冷
仿佛河面上徘徊的
泛着鱼腥而甜美的夏末时光。
我希望他们正在烧掉写在
碎纸屑上的后悔，嘴里低喃着
即将发生的事情
我记得我们都做过这些事。
我当时就是那样愤世嫉俗。
那样顾虑重重。
那样畏首畏尾。
我依然会想起那晚，以及那些朋友们。
令人欣慰的是，怀旧与希冀
常常携手并行。
-
of what is
by Eliza Jane
It’s the first cool aired evening, and someone has lit a campfire.
The singed scent takes me everywhere.
Though you’ve been away for some time,
I remember just like yesterday.
The coolness on my cheeks
as the last fishy sweet days of summer
linger on the river.
I hope they’re burning their regrets
on small ripped pieces of paper and whispering
of what’s to come
I remember when we all did that.
How I was cynical.
How I was skeptical.
How I was afraid.
How I still think about that night, and those friends.
And thankful, that nostalgia and hope
so often lie hand in hand.
-
the bride
translated by PLS
the bride lies prone on the grass
humming the national anthem
in a moonless night
balloons sink to the bottom of the ocean
they drown birds in a bucket of paint
explaining ways of sacrificing for art
they build a church in the centre of town
killing the spider outside the window on the 33rd floor
the bride lies prone on the grass
like a corpse
-
新娘
作者：与安
新娘趴在草地上
轻声哼唱着国歌
没有月亮的晚上
气球沉入海底
他们把飞鸟溺死在颜料桶里
诉说着为艺术献身的方式
他们在城市的中央建起一座教堂
杀死了三十三楼窗外的蜘蛛
新娘趴在草地上
像一具尸体一样
-
一切问题之源
翻译：诗验室
我惧怕无云之空与现实主义他们烂进眼里—
像父母怒吼和撕毁我呼吸的一切时
我曾经注视的天花板那样乏味。
四肢摊开躺在地上，玩着“负鼠”游戏 —
我对守恒物理感到厌倦。人究竟怎样才能坚持做一件事？
在什么样的情况下，
一颗心会裂开？
然后破碎的果实继续生活
只为偿还成熟的代价；运气的代价。
【闭上双眼。】
我惧怕在这样一个世界中醒来，那里的一切都与我形容陌路。
我熟悉的文化中时兴的一切都已通过翻译
被盗，在外太平洋的风化之下
都已化成碎片。
剩余的只能乞求得到理解，但
无法跟随他化的节奏起舞。
战争与和平的假象
依旧未从1860年的掠劫中复原。
我惧怕……惧怕这样一个世界，那里没有像我的善良一样哭号的品德。
就像祖母的方言，带着很强的鼻音，
既大声又粗糙，整个乡村俱乐部的目光都像短刀一样刺向她的
幸福。
过去她会说“昂首挺胸”，
可现在她已分不清
死亡与漂浮。
我惧怕我咽下、聆听、咽下、聆听太多，词语变为
沉默，那种没有体积的沉默，
填满信仰的沉默。
然后我的理想主义升起，像一轮
永远也触不到地面的红日。
与此同时，魔术表演者在临时舞台上
花费过长时间脱衣，放大他们的无知。
【睁开双眼。】
-
The Root of All Problems
by Erica Hu
I fear cloudless skies and the realism they erode into the eyes––
predictable like the ceiling I used to stare at
when my parents bellowed and ruptured everything that breathed.
Sprawling limbs on the floor, playing possum –
I grew so tired of the physics
of constancy. How can one hold on to anything?
At which threshold,
a heart opens?
And the fruit of brokenness lives
to pay the price of maturing; the price of luck.
[Closes eyes.]
I fear waking in a world where no history looks like me.
Everything vogue in my culture has been stolen
by translation, beaten to pieces across
the Xeno-Pacific weathering.
The rest begs to be understood, but
can’t dance to the tempo of othering.
The delirium of war and peace
still hasn’t recovered from the looting of 1860.
I fear… I fear a world where no goodness wails like mine.
Like my grandma’s dialect, bejeweled with a twang,
loud and grainy, the whole country club stares daggers at her
happiness.
Instead of saying “hold your head up,”
she now confuses
death with floating.
I fear I swallow and listen and swallow and listen too much, words become
silence, the kind that does not take up space,
but faith.
And my idealism rises, like a red sun
that never touches the ground.
Meanwhile, the shape-shifters take forever
to undress on the soapbox, magnifying their ignorance.
[Opens eyes.]
-
answer
translated by PLS
I wrote down my love to him
yet brought death to myself
in the dark tunnel
the abandoned are running wild
watch, here bursts
two facts, is it
me escaping in full speed
or me rushing towards me
people in the dark
who are you, why are you
summoning me day and night into
a world of disappointment and discovery
I am waiting, he’s waiting for me
perhaps everyone is waiting
for a real death, or a miracle
an absolute answer
-
答案
作者：肖禾子
我写下对他的爱
却招来了死亡
黑暗的隧道里
被遗弃的人在狂奔
观察，这里裂生出
两个事实，究竟
是我在飞速逃离
还是 我在向我袭来
黑暗中的人
你是谁，你为何
日夜召唤我进入
那失落与发现的世界
我在等待，他等待着我
或许所有人都在等待
真正的死，抑或是奇迹
一个绝对的答案
